


Bed and Breakfast

by Scrunchles



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hospital, Angst with a Happy Ending, Doctor Mako Rutledge, Domestic Fluff, Drug Dealer Jamison Fawkes, Established Relationship, M/M, just a tiny bit of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-22 06:40:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15575979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scrunchles/pseuds/Scrunchles
Summary: When Mako’s pager goes off, he rolls out of bed, grabs the first shirt he comes into contact with, and drags it over his head before he realizes that it reeks of weed and is approximately 7 sizes too small for him. He has to dig through several more pieces of clothing before he finally finds one of his own shirts and drags it on. Finding shoes is easier than finding a shirt. All he has to do is pick from the pairs that have a right one. He should text that to Jamie, he’ll probably have a good laugh since he keeps dodging Mako’s comments about him slowly taking over Mako’s apartment.It feels like they’ve been together forever, like it wasn’t just three weeks ago that Mako noticed prosthetic lubricant and tools on his kitchen table and folded three of Jamie’s shirts into the corner of his second drawer.





	Bed and Breakfast

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WodensSkadi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WodensSkadi/gifts), [mssileas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mssileas/gifts).



> This is a gift for Skadi and Gigi for the exchange our discord had! I love you both, your prompts were wonderful :')
> 
> I picked the Hospital and Dealer AUs Skadi gave and the "accidentally domestic" prompt from Gigi.

When Mako’s pager goes off, he rolls out of bed, grabs the first shirt he comes into contact with, and drags it over his head before he realizes that it reeks of weed and is approximately 7 sizes too small for him. He has to dig through several more pieces of clothing before he finally finds one of his own shirts and drags it on. It has a mustard stain, but whoever’s in the middle of dying probably won’t care anyway.

He triple checks the brownie he scoops out of a pan in the fridge, but Jamie’s pretty good at labeling his product versus snacks he bakes for Mako now. He lost nearly fifty dollars of product in one night after leaving pot brownies out when he stayed over. Mako had to call out of work, and Jamie had a great time bringing him down. Apparently he’s a talkative cuddler when he’s high.

Finding shoes is easier than finding a shirt and a snack. All he has to do is pick from the pairs that have a right one. He should text that to Jamie, he’ll probably have a good laugh since he keeps dodging Mako’s comments about him slowly taking over Mako’s apartment.

He doesn't know when it started or why Jamie insists on holding onto his shithole of a house, but it honestly feels like they’ve been together forever, like it wasn’t just three weeks ago that Mako noticed prosthetic lubricant and tools on his kitchen table and folded three of Jamie’s shirts into the corner of his second drawer.

The ride to work takes a few minutes longer than usual with Mako distracted and not pushing any speed limits, but when he gets there, there’s plenty to do. An entire block had been shot up in the night. There’s whispers of gangs and drug violence, but Mako keeps his head down and hides the concerned press of his lips behind his surgical mask as he carefully works to sanitize, remove foreign objects and dress the wounds of the men, women and children flooding the emergency room.

Jamie would have to funnel through the emergency room if he had been involved. Unless he went to jail—which would mean he’s fine—or the morgue, which Mako’s not okay with thinking about. Jail or ER.

Jail or ER.

Mako takes a break after six hours and checks his phone. Nothing from Jamie.

_M ako: you home yet?_

Mako gets a cup of milk with a splash of coffee before he heads back to the ER, but he doesn’t hear anything back from Jamie before he dives back into work.

Another six hours and Mako’s normal shift started… a while ago. Probably. He’s dead on his feet, and he can’t do math, but he can keep doing compressions on the chest of the eighty year old car accident in front of him. One of the residents walks by and rests her hand on Mako’s arm, drawing him back. She has to ask him how long he’s been trying three times before he finally gets out a response. She makes him take a break and declares the woman dead.

Mako doesn’t drag his mask off until he’s in the on-call room. He slumps down on the lower bunk of the beds within and sighs heavily. He knows he should lay down, but he could probably fall asleep just sitting here— then he hears Jamie’s voice:

“Mako?”

He grunts in reply. It’s all he has the energy for, and he’s honestly not sure if Jamie is a figment of his sleep deprived and  s t a r v i n g imagination. 

One and a half wiry arms wrap around his shoulders and he reaches out to wrap his hands around Jamie’s waist. He’s warm and solid. Jamie pushes gently to get him to lie down and Mako does, but not before he pulls at Jamie’s shirt and finds more than two feet of room. “Are you wearing my shirt?” he asks, his voice even lower and gravelier than usual from exhaustion.

“Yeah, couldn’t find any of mine before I went on my route,” Jamie says as he crawls onto the bed and snuggles against Mako’s chest.

Mako snorts at the irony and wraps his arms around Jamie with a long sigh. “Had to dig through all  y o u r s to find mine. Can’t just pull on a thin piece of shit undershirt and call it a day.”

“Usually do, but I smelled like a decent human being today, so I think you just get shafted both ways,” Jamie says.

Mako doesn’t have the energy to figure out what Jamie’s saying, so he just grunts.

“Can’t wear my shirts, and even if you could, they’d just smell like skunk weed,” Jamie explains. “Not very doctor professional.”

“Got a mustard stain on my shirt,” Mako mumbles.

“Yeah? I’ll scrub it out for you,” Jamie tells him.

Mako hums and almost drifts off, but he feels thin lips press wet kisses against his neck and against every fucking physiological chance in hell his cock begins to ache for touch. He just wants to sleep. He will cry for sleep at this point.

Jamie laughs softly when Mako’s cock nudges his thigh and he reaches down to encourage the traitorous prick, smoothing his hand up and down it through Mako’s scrubs. 

“Did you check that we’re alone in here?” Mako asks.

“Mhm,” Jamie says, all breath and no tenor. 

“Lock the door,” Mako orders him.

Jamie jerks away and quickly walks over to lock the door. “Door locked,” he announces, crawling on top of Mako.

The poor, tired doctor turns onto his back and hooks his thumbs into his pants and underwear. “You can suck me or frot-“ a loud moan that echoes around the small, empty room leaves him when Jamie’s ass suddenly sinks down around his cock. Mako slaps his hand over his own mouth and bites the heel of his palm as his eyes roll back.

Jamie giggles and grabs the supports of the bed above them before beginning to move up and down on him. “I came prepared,” he says proudly. “Was just coming to bring you food and swing a cuddly nap in, but I used yer big ‘un before I came, and mate… I came real hard,” he laughs, enjoying his almost-word play.

Mako doesn’t know what it would be called. Doesn’t care, just wants that warm, welcoming heat to keep movong around him. “Jamie…” he rumbles.

Jamie’s only response is to laugh and fuck himself onto Mako’s dick harder. They go for far longer than Mako expected himself to last before he comes, biting his hand and rattling the very room with the force of their fucking. Jamie sighs and curls up against Mako’s chest once Mako’s soft. Mako reaches for Jamie’s cock to jerk him off the rest of the way, but he barely gets his hand around the other man before he falls asleep.

Mako’s alarm goes off an hour later, and he looks around the room, uncertain whether Jamie had ever been there. His mouth certainly has the aftertaste of stale weed, but that might just be him remembering his lover. 

He doesn’t fully believe Jamie was there until he turns the light on and looks down to see a come stain on his scrub top, above his belly where his own come would never reach.

“Fuck…” he mumbles, scratching at it and hoping that it will just blend in with the other stains. His stomach growls and he gives up on Jamie’s come to kneel in front of the mini fridge and see what he might have left in it two days before— there’s a bag of grapes, an unmarked pudding, and a styrofoam box with his name on it.

Mako pulls out the box and finds a small baggie with three tiny white pills in it nestled among a dozen dumplings. Mako sighs heavily and glances around the empty room before he takes two of the pills and slips the small bag into his pocket. He scarfs down three of the dumplings before slowing slightly and enjoying a couple. By the time he’s washed it all down with a cup of coffee, the methylphenidate Jamie left him begins to kick in and he shoves the rest of his— breakfast? Lunch? Who the fuck knows?— food into the fridge, ready to get back out there.

He unlocks the on-call room door and steps out into the chaos of the hospital with a come stain on his shirt and a smile on his lips. 

“What happened to you?” Dr. Ziegler asks when he comes back with a generous amount of pep in his step.

“Good nap,” he says. “Jamie brought me food, too,” he tacks on. 

“How sweet. He looks rough, but he’s a very thoughtful young man,” she says, looking back down at the chart she was working on filling out.

“Yeah,” Mako agrees as he grabs a clipboard from the pile and walks off to the next patient room, trying not to think about Jamie sinking down on his desperate prick in the middle of a busy hospital.  _R eal thoughtful._


End file.
